A Murder of Crows
by C.C.A.B
Summary: Set in a more medieval time than the regular show. The young lord Grayson has a falling out with his mentor and father figure and is forced to become a vagabond. Given aid by the strangest of creatures how will he make his mark on the world? Rae/Rob but slowly.
1. Chapter 1

Prologue

The battlefield was soaked with rain and blood. Both sides had been fighting for days and everyone knew it would only be a matter of time before one of them buckled.

Inside of his tent Lex Luthor, self-styled King of the Lowlands. was pacing slowly, his eyes fixated on a hastily drawn map of the battlefield. He walked over to the low table the map had been placed on and scrutinized it closely.

The flap to his tent was thrown open and in swaggered a man that gave even Luthor pause. He was dressed in garish colours and always smiled, that was what made him so unnerving. This man could watch a thousand of his fellows die and he would still belaughing at the end of the day.

His name was unknown to even king Luthor, but the man's reputation spoke for itself. He had squashed down many a rebellion in Luthor's name, never asking for anything but a next assignment. Luthor had came to call the man by the banner that he would carry into battle.

"Joker," he said, turning around "what news do you bring?" Joker grinned and seated himself in Luthor's most luxurious chair, his legs dangling over the side as he reclined sideways. "Nothing much," he answered, " Kent is still keeping your forces occupied well enough and Wayne and his ward are trouncing your rear guard trying to reach him."

Luthor glared at his map, moving some pieces about as he listened to the Joker. "Solomon Grundy?" he asked.

"Is caught up trying to keep your men from routing to be of much use. Face it Lex, your losing this battle."

Lex clenched his fists choosing to ignore his subordinates' forgetting his royal title. His eyes roamed over the map where his forces, represented by a large green L on the map where fighting against Lord Clark Kent, represented on the map by a large red S in a yellow field. This would have been a cut and dry battle, where Luthor's superior forces eventually trounced the unprepared and peace-loving Lord Kent's army.

But the Lord of Metropolis had asked for assistance from the neighbouring Duchy of Gotham. And lo and behold the reclusive Duke Bruce Wayne had offered a sympathetic ear to Lord Kent's cause. He did not only send troops, he and his young ward Richard Grayson had both rode out themselves to lead their men as they raced to surround Luthor's forces.

Fighting a two pronged battle was proving to be too much for Luthor, more so because he had not counted on either Lord Kent's zeal in leading his man and his utter refusal to die or Lord Wayne's inventiveness in harassing Luthor's troops. The duke's ward had been a thorn in his side as well, a charismatic young leader Grayson had fought back numerous assaults from Luthor's men earning him a reputation far beyond his years.

Luthor frowned. His men were quickly losing morale and he needed something to turn the tide of this engagement. He looked over at the Joker, his frown deepening as he saw the man take a bite out of one of his freshly picked apples. Why did the man insist on covering himself with that ludicrous war paint? He was getting paint all over his King's apples.

"Drop the apple Joker, you are in my employ...act like it." The Joker giggled, a high pitched warble of a laugh that send a shiver of discomfort down Luthor's spine.

"What's an apple to you Chief? I thought you were after the world here." He grinned again and Luthor realized that seeing that face grin at you from across the battlefield might be enough to give a lesser man pause. Joker continued "Besides I have come bearing gifts!"

Luthor raised an eyebrow in question. "The gift of knowledge, the gift of the rift!" He giggled again "Oh you should be paying me for these rhymes Lexy."

Luthor stalked forwards to loom over the Joker, that stopped him laughing at least. "You see boss, we merely need to get the bats off our back so we can take out Lord Kent right?" Luthor nodded slowly, again surprised by the man's utter lack of decorum. Calling the Duke of Gotham a bat would have been classified as a gross lack of respect by even his greatest enemies. But, he mused, the man did have a fondness for black capes.

Joker smiled, thin lipped and leering, as he continued. "Well now there is nothing the old bat loves more than his city of Gotham and its people, don't know why most of the buggers wouldn't know a good joke if it hit them in the face. So all we have to do is send a small force to attack Gotham and he'll turn around as quick as a top." Luthor blinked at him, letting the plan sink in.

"What about his ward?" he asked.

"That's the beauty of it. Wayne doesn't allow his ward to travel without him. They would both be forced to head back to Gotham and you would be free to squash Lord Kent."

Luthor glanced at his map again, losing the pressure from the two...bats would be good for morale and Kent was brave but not foolish, the only reason he was fighting so valiantly was because he had backup. This...could work.

"I'll make you a knight for this Joker, mark my words." He said, feeling generous. But the Joker merely blew a raspberry.

"Knights are boring," he said,"I'd rather you make me a rook!" Luthor looked at him in disgust as the man dissolved into another fit off laughter over one of his own jokes.

"You must want something." He said, trying and failing to keep annoyance from lacing his words.

"Oh but I do," Joker rebutted, "I want to be the one sent to Gotham, there are children there who need their little hearts to explode in joy."

Luthor kept the surprise from showing. The man surely knew that he would be dead by sunup if he was the one raiding Gotham. But, he mused, if it would keep him satisfied and off of the future king's back.

"Fine Joker, carry out your plan. You have my blessing." Joker stood up from the chair and bowed low. "It's all I ever hoped for oh great...king...Lexy." He righted himself with the speed of a whiplash gave a little salute and was out the tent before Luthor could reply.

Maybe having him die against Wayne wouldn't be such a great loss, Luthor thought as he turned back to his map.


	2. Chapter 2

Bruce grunted as he parried a blow from one of Luthor's many soldiers. The man lost his balance and Bruce's lips tightened as he ran the man through in one clean cut. He surveyed the battle going on around him, his mouth set in a grim line. He hated this. Hated the loss of life that battle brought with it but he couldn't have stayed out of this one if he tried. Best to fight of Luthor together before the man became too powerful to defeat alone. Besides, he thought as he smashed his mailed fist into the face of one of his attackers, he and his men had tried to keep the casualties to a minimum. He stayed silent as he slashed at one of Luthor's men expertly, taking off the man's sword hand with practised ease. As the man went to his knees in mute agony Bruce regarded him with something that could be called pity, the man would never hold a sword again...but he would live and that's what counted in the end.

He cast an eye around the battle noting that his men were pushing back Luthor's forces with some difficulty. His practiced eye noticed a few tactical gaps in Luthor's defences. He gave his banner bearer a signal and the man hefted his banner, a bat folding its wings protectively over a city on a sable background, and blew on the horn that he had hanging around his neck.

At the first blaring tone of the horn all of Bruce's soldiers took a more defensive position, Luthor's men saw this as a sign of fatigue and pressed the attack. But just as they committed to it from the woods lining the battlefield a bevy of horse riding knights burst forth. At their front was the duke's young ward his garish red,yellow and green armour a beacon for any to see.

He carried his own banner, as he always did, a red robin on a green back ground surrounded by a golden border. The visor of his helm was open and his face showed just how much he enjoyed the thrill of battle. Bruce could see him turn around to his men, men who were loyal to a fault and give a quick speech.

And then they were suddenly in the thick of it, slashing around and riding into Luthor's men. Bruce felt the stab of fear he always did when he saw his young ward fight. The boy fought with no regard for his own safety, riding into the thick of battle ahead of his men without fear. He would often dismount and let his natural agility carry him through the battle. He always seemed to be surrounded by enemies but then one of his men would fight their way close to him and form a protective barrier around him so Richard could take a breath. And Richard trusted his men to have his back at all times. Bruce knew his young ward had much to learn.

Bruce ordered his men to press the attack, hefting his own broad sword onto his shoulder and wading into battle. His men kept a respectful distance as their duke cut a swathe through their enemies to head off his ward.

Richard Grayson was surrounded and that was the way he liked it. His longsword darted around like a paintbrush over a canvas, sometimes in his left hand and sometimes in his right. He refused to carry a shield for fear that it would slow him down. He turned and parried a blow from behind with minimal effort, kicking his attacker in the face and knocking him out. Then he danced around an overhead slash and thrust his sword through the armour of the second attacker.

He was so focused on the fighting that when a heavy hand fell on his shoulder he whirled around and slashed at his perceived attacker. Bruce calmly parried the blow and pulled his ward to his side, slapping his visor down as he did so. Richard tried to pull away from him but Bruce held fast.

"Your part in this battle is done, morale is soaring and you can pull back to safety now." Bruce said, pulling his ward behind him.

"What the hell Bruce, I can't leave my men to fight this alone!" Richard said turning his visor up again. Bruce looked at Richard gravely.

"The measure of a leader is knowing that you still have to there the next day, it's time to step back and let your men handle this. This is what they train for." Bruce led Richard away from the main fighting to where the Gotham soldiers kept their tents, they had won the day and would be moving closer to the forces of Lord Kent in the morning.

"You did well today Dick, your forces were exactly the boost my soldiers needed. We will win here today thanks to your efforts." Bruce let go of Richard's shoulder as the walked among the tents of the camp.

"We should be moving faster though, Lord Kent is expecting us to help him beat back the main bulk of Luthor's forces." Richard looked at his foster father with fire in his eyes.

"I told you I would help Kent, but I will not do so at the cost of my own people." Bruce set his jaw, as he always did when talking about matters pertaining to the safety of his subjects.

"You told me yourself Luthor would be coming for us next, we need to do this Bruce."

Bruce opened his mouth to reply when a horse broke through the men lining the outskirts of the camp. Bruce raised an eyebrow when he recognised the man riding the horse.

"Alfred, what are you doing here? I thought I left you in charge of the castle." Lord Wayne stayed calm as he spoke to his housecarl of forty years.

"I'm sorry master Wayne but I bring tidings from Gotham. Lord Gordon has come to me bearing grim news, the forces of the Joker have broken from the main bulk of Luthor's forces and are heading for Gotham. You and your men are needed at home, we do not know how long the militia can hold out."

Bruce stayed silent as he surveyed his men mopping up the last of Luthor's forces. He cursed under his breath but nodded. "Tell the men to pack up camp, we are heading back to Gotham."

Alfred bowed deeply for his Lord and moved to carry out his orders when Richard spoke up. "You can't be serious," he said, "we have Luthor on the ropes! We should press the attack, if we don't Lord Kent will surely fall. Luthor is relentless, he won't take Lord Kent prisoner, he will kill him for defying him."

He grabbed his foster father's arm and pleaded. "The militia will hold out Bruce, you should know, you trained them! Gordon is a loyal knight and a strong leader. We have to make a choice here and we should choose to do the right thing!"

Bruce shook Richard off. "I told you Dick, not at the expense of my people."

Richard squared his shoulders "Then leave me behind to take half of our forces to aid Lord Kent, we should still be able to do some damage to Luthor´s forces. Besides,` the start of a cocky smirk appeared on Richard´s face, `Luthor´s men fear us. They will run before fighting us with the way things are going. Allow me to do this Bruce.`

Bruce snorted. `Are you expecting a knighthood Dick? Kent will not give you one for doing what he considers is your duty. We are going back to Gotham and that's final."

"No," Richard spoke his voice wavering, you can't condemn all those people because you are too afraid of what might happen!"

Bruce whirled around angrily "And you should get your head out of the clouds, boy, as long as you are my ward you will do as I say. The Joker is a dangerous adversary, they will need us at home. Now come..." With a whirl of his cape, Bruce headed to his tent to make preparations for his departure."

Richard stood glaring at his foster father's retreating back. Alfred came to stand next to him. "He just worries for you you know?" He said trying to make the words sound light. "Just come back with us and I'm sure we'll go to help Lord Kent once the Joker is dealt with." He placed a friendly hand on Richard's shoulder.

"Without me then," Richard spat out, ripping the symbol of the bat from his tunic."Tell him I'll pay him back all those years he had to care for me one day." He grabbed his horse by the bridle and mounted it. He turned towards the gathered soldiers who were all in the midst of packing their belongings and who had been trying very carefully not to get involved.

"You all know me," he shouted, "I have led some of you in battle, but most of you know me as the ward of the Duke. So you know I am honourable, you know I try to be just. What we are doing here today is not honourable, we are running away back home while the real danger lies behind us and is in the process of wiping out our ally! What will the history books say later? That the men of Gotham fell short? That they abandoned their duties when they were needed the most? I give you an alternative, follow me into the fray. Follow me and we'll fight Luthor side by side with the men of Metropolis. We will claim victory and afterwards we will get the help of the men of Metropolis to destroy the Joker!" He fell silent after these words, looking at his men imploringly.

Those who had followed the Robin into battle before never hesitated and joined their leader at the edge of camp. Others looked fearfully at the duke's tent at first but the flaps stayed closed and more men joined Richard.

"Don't do this master Richard." Alfred implored, but Richard paid him no mind and ordered his men away from camp and started marching south towards Metropolis.

Alfred entered his master's tent. Bruce was calmly folding his tunics and filling his travelling chest. "How many did we lose?" he asked.

"About a third of our forces Master Wayne." Alfred answered and Bruce nodded. "I want you to ride ahead Alfred and bring a message to young Tim Drake." he said.

He cast his steely gaze on Alfred and the old housecarl was saddened at the coldness radiating from them. "Tell him he is my sole heir now and he should take care to act like one. I expect him to ride out with me against the Joker. You may go."

Only when his old friend had left did Bruce allow himself to fall into his chair. He placed both hands over his face and sat there quietly for a while.

A/N: So here's the first real chapter, not that long yet but things are just starting to build up. I want to take this time to thank Hexist and Kipperinca for being my first two reviewers :D Thanks you guys and especially for the constructive criticism. I also want to thank Rdash for being my beta reader.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own any of this, I probably should have said that sooner :P

Clark Kent did not feel hopeful as he looked out of his tent at the sky above. The dark clouds drawing together over the skies of Metropolis were a bad omen, he could feel it in his gut. He gripped his warhammer tightly when he felt a presence behind him He wondered for moment why his guard hadn't called out or made a move but ignoring his trepidation he turned around slowly. What he saw there made a smile spread slowly on his face.

"Oliver." he said lightly, regarding his friend with a warm look. The archer stayed silent, his green hood pulled tightly over his face, but Clark wasn't deterred. "It's good of you to come in Metropolis' hour of need."

Oliver Queen cast a quick look around before he answered. "I expected you to have more men Lord Kent." he said at length.

"Metropolitans aren't fighters...you know this. It's why I reached out to you, we need your help sorely." Clark returned.

Oliver grit his teeth. "Where was Metropolis when Star City needed its help." he bit out.

Clark looked surprised. "I would have come if your cause had been just, you attacked Luthor first Oliver he was well within his right to defend himself."

In a flash Oliver Queen had notched an arrow on his bow and aimed at Clark. Kent's eyes widened momentarily before he cast a glare at his friend. "What is the meaning of this Oliver, you're going to shoot me in my own camp?" he asked as behind him his men took up position to attack the archer on a word of their Lord.

"You don't get it do you, Clark? I lost my city to that bastard because you and Wayne couldn't be bothered to lift a finger to help me! I expected this from Wayne, the man is a god damned recluse on the best of days but you...you I expected to have my back in this. You know what kind of man Luthor is. I wasn't going to wait for that power hungry madman to attack me. I have more pride than that." Oliver looked at Clark's men and let out a sharp whistle, from the woods that surrounded the camp a company of archers burst forth, moving silently and with purpose the drew their bows and aimed at Clark and his soldiers.

"Look at them Clark! This is all that's left of my city and you had still had the gall to ask me for my help. Tell me why I shouldn't shoot you right now!" Oliver ground out.

Clark regarded the archers paying special attention to the smaller form of one of them, hood drawn deeply over...her face. He looked at Oliver closely. "You would be dead before you loosed your first arrow Oliver besides do you really think your arrows could get through to me? Me, Oliver? Think and maybe Thea will have her brother for a while longer." He regarded Oliver gravely. "Please think Oliver."

Oliver glared at Clark over his bow, cursed and lowered it. "My men are yours Clark...I keep my promises." He looked around the camp again, closer this time. "I expected more though Clark, I thought you asked Lady Diana to come as well."

Clark signalled for his men to stand down. "She has her own problems, though I believe that with your and Bruce's help we will be able to fend off Luthor's attack."

Oliver gave a rictus grin. "You haven't heard then...Gotham is under attack. Expect no help to come from there. It's just you and me I'm afraid."

Clark looked at the gathered men and women and did a quick calculation. He looked at Oliver again and grimaced.

Oliver nodded, resigned to what would be their faith. "Let's give him a fight to remember at least."

They both started giving their men orders, working together in unison to get their soldiers ready for the battle. Horns blared in the distance as the scouts signalled the approach of Luthor's army.

"We're not going to make it, are we?" Thea asked her brother as she wet her arrows with oil and wrapped them in cotton.

He didn't look at her but shook his head. "We gotta make due with what we've got and with Wayne leaving us to our own devices we've got very little." He pursed his lips as he unstrung and restrung his bow. "But we'll make the best of it sis and I promise I won't let anything happen to you."

She snorted a laugh. "I can take care of myself big brother."

He silenced her with a look. "I told Diggle to take you away from here if things got too bad and he will."

She looked over at the other side of camp where her brother's silent friend was whetting his blade, he seemed to sense her look and gave her a grim one back, she didn't doubt that he would fulfil her brother's wishes.

"What do you think we would need to win here?" She asked instead.

"A miracle." He shot back as horns blared at the edges of camp, signalling the arrival of Luthor's forces.

Queen left his sister in the care of Diggle as he made his way to the front of the camp where Clark was making ready for the parlay.

"Give me one clear shot at him and I could end this all with one arrow." He whispered as he took up his place next to Clark.

Clark gave him a wan smile. "That wouldn't be very honourable now would it?" Clark said before making his way to the centre of the battlefield where Lex Luthor was waiting. Clark kept his back straight and his face high as he approached the self-styled King. Luthor's face betrayed nothing as he regarded his adversary from across the hastily set up table.

"I'm giving you one chance...Kent," he said forgoing the usual niceties two opposing Lords would go through, "surrender and none of your citizens will be hurt. Don't and I will make sure the streets run red. Do you understand me Kent?"

"What you're doing is wrong Lord Luthor. I will not step aside and allow you to walk all over my people," He gave Luthor a dark look, "I will die first."

Luthor pushed back his chair and stood up. "No Kent, you will die last after I have made you watch me put all your citizens to the stake." He glared at Clark from across the table. "I will attack in an hour, make your peace with your Gods Kent. Pray they show you the mercy I won't."

He kept his eyes trained on Clark Kent as the other man stood up and went back to his own camp. He turned to the large man at his side. "Grundy, any news from our friend?"

Grundy smiled at him, a thin lipped and cruel thing. "The Bat and his forces are making their way back to Gotham at break neck speed. It seems the Joker was right about him."

"Yes, it seems he has an unnerving insight into the human psyche." Luthor fingered a thin scar near his collarbone. "By the way, was that Oliver Queen I saw amongst Kent's men?" Grundy nodded. "He has a sister hasn't he?" When Grundy nodded again Luthor continued, " be sure to make him watch as you defile and torture that pretty sister of his before you kill him. I'll deal with Kent." Solomon Grundy grinned at his Lord.

A/N: Short Chapter, I know but the next one will be longer I promise. Not long until we get to Raven now :). Also thanks to Grinning Cheshire and 2Redmouse2 for reviewing and I realize that this is slow going guys so I don't mind that you can't really tell anything about my story yet. Will get better with time I promise :D


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Again, I don't own any of this or I would be trying to turn it into a tv show :P**

As his men were getting ready they skies continued to grow darker. Clark looked up from where he was sitting on the grass. It would rain soon. He looked over at his tent where Jimmy Olsen, his squire, would be getting his armour ready. He sighed, it would be best to get ready now. His men would be expecting a speech from the Man of Steel. He walked over to his tent and stepped inside to the scene of Jimmy Olsen polishing the helmet of Clark's armour to a mirror sheen. Clark cleared his throat and Jimmy looked up with a start.

"Your armour's almost ready sire." The younger man said, quickly wiping the last few smudges of the helmet and presenting it to his Lord.

Clark looked at his warped reflection in the helmet and found it hard to suppress a shudder. He hated this, hated the thought of going out to fight and endangering his people. But, for Jimmy's sake, he forced a smile on his face and handed the helmet back.

"Help me get it on Jimmy, the men are owed a speech by their lord if they are going into battle for me." Jimmy nodded and brought Clark the other pieces of his armour. Helping his master get them on and fastening the straps that held them in place. When they were done Clark was covered from the neck down in gleaming steel plate, while making him an easy target on any battlefield it also served as a beacon for his people. Throughout his long career leading his people Clark had never once fallen in battle. And the figure he struck fighting the enemy served to give his people hope.

He took his helmet from Jimmy again and, being mindful of his audience placed it on his head almost reverently. Jimmy had once told him how he was sure the armour held magical properties for keeping him safe for so long and although he didn't want to admit it Clark knew that fuelling that rumour was what had kept him in power for so long. He hefted his war-hammer onto his shoulder, making sure to make it look like it took him some effort and stepped outside his tent just as the rain started falling.

He cast his eye over the assembled men and took note of Oliver Queen and his men standing off to the side, keeping a distance between the two sides. He sighed, knowing that that friendship would take a while to mend. He also chanced a glance from behind his visor to where Luthor and his men where setting up. He winced as he noticed the farmers and militia being herded to the front of Luthor's lines. Cannon fodder, he realised grimly. Not just that, he's trying to undermine my resolve as well he knows I don't like fighting civilians.

He realised what he'd have to do. He straightened his stance and curled his hands into fists, clasping them together behind his back to stop the from shaking. Man of Steel time. "Metroplians, hear my words." He said making sure that at least he had the attention of his own men. "Today will mark a black day in our history, we the peace loving people are being forced into a war we want no part of. But as I look around today I can't help but feel pride at what we have accomplished in the short time we had to get ready"

He opened the visor of his helm, allowing his people to see the genuine pride radiating off his face. "Even though we abhor war and the dangers it represents we are here today to hold the line against the tide of Luthor's destruction. We are here today not alone, but with those of left of Star City, those men and women who took the loss of their homes not as a sign of defeat but as a sign of more to come and they said not as long as I live." From the corner of his eyes he could see some of Oliver's men stand up proudly and stand a little closer to his own men, he felt like a heel for undermining Oliver's authority like that but it had to be done. The only way they stood a chance of winning today was if they stood together.

Oliver glared at him but stayed quiet. "We will allow the citizens of the Star region their vengeance, they will form our first line so they can use their superior marksmanship to take out their hated enemy. We, the Metropolians, will take up our arms when the enemy closes in and we will do our damnedest to protect the citizens of Star." A few proud cheers went up from his men and Clark could see that Oliver had redirected his glare to the other side of the battlefield. The man's hate of Luthor was obviously overriding the grudge he held against Clark.

"Move out." Clark called out and, as one, the people of Star moved from the cover that the trees provided them to stand in front of Clark's men, a few notched an arrow already, eager for the chance to fight Luthor's horde.

Oliver hung back for a second. "One day I will make you pay for this Kent." He ground out before joining his men at the lip off the hill overlooking the battlefield. Clark could do nothing but hang his head for a moment as he observed the shattering of their friendship.

As the rain continued to fall down around them they spied movement from Luthor's camp. Like a surging wave his men started to move forward with increasing speed.

Oliver Queen stepped to the front of the line and surveyed the battlefield down below him. He raised his hand and his people all notched their arrows. "For the Merlins, my mother and all the people we have lost to Luthor's horde. For any hope we have of retaking our region. For vengeance." His hand curled into a fist and in one swift motion he grabbed an arrow from his quiver, notched it and loosed.

Down in the valley one of the poorly armoured farmers sunk to his knees, an arrow sprouting from his throat. Around him all his men loosed their arrows and, with a fierce yell, Oliver notched his second one.

Luthor looked at the battlefield grimly as he saw the farmers cut down like so much wheat. "Shields." He said to Solomon Grundy and the man blared his horn once. Behind the farmers the dismounted knights that made up the bulk of Luthor's forces raised their shields covering themselves effectively from the arrows being fired upon them. A moment later the sky was suddenly bright with flaming arrows. Some of the wooden shields caught fire and Luthor could see scores of his men fall to the ground in burning agony.

"Pick up the pace" he growled to Grundy and his second in command blared his horn thrice before joining the running knights as they hastened themselves over the field. Luthor regarded the men he would loose in the initial assault with a detached smile. Fodder was easily replaced.

Oliver Queen looked at the quickly approaching soldiers with a grimace. "They're not stopping Kent!" He yelled to his one time friend and the larger man nodded, giving his banner bearer a nudge and suddenly his men were moving. Oliver dropped his bow and nodded to Diggles who lowered his bow as well and took out a hand axe as he moved closer to Thea who was so focused on firing into her enemy that she failed to notice one of the farmers getting closer to her. Just before he could cut her down however Diggles moved in between them and with a quick slice of his axe took care of the threat. Then he started moving Thea back through the lines to safety.

Oliver nodded, at least the Queen line would continue he thought grimly as he gripped his long daggers and started moving through the attackers, cutting them down from behind without a sound.

Clark Kent was in his element, he stood surrounded by scores of men and was using his war-hammer to take them down easily. He yelled a battle cry as he smashed his hammer into the chest of an approaching knight. The man made a surprised sound as his armour caved in over the chest and his ribs cracked and broke piercing his lungs and heart, he was dead before he hit the ground. Clark made sure he was visible to his men as he moved amongst the attackers, ever shouting and ever gaining on Luthor's position.

Luthor regarded the battle calmly as he reined in his horse and stepped upon the soggy ground, caking his boots in mud in seconds. Kent was coming closer. Luthor loosened his blade in its sheath. Kent was fighting Luthor's honour guard who did their best to herd him in Luthor's direction. Luthor smiled.

"Face me Luthor and we can end this without more useless deaths!" Clark yelled, smashing his war-hammer into the helmet of one off Luthor's honour guard. The man crumpled to the floor blood seeping through the slats in his helmet. Clark felt a presence behind him and, guessing it to be Luthor, whirled around bringing his war-hammer down in a crushing arc.

Luthor caught the war-hammer on the blade of his broadsword. And held it there. He grinned at his adversary. "You look surprised Kent." he said mirthfully as he pushed the war-hammer back against its owners chest plate.

"Luthor," Clark said, "how in the world?" And as he watched Luthor's grin in the eerie green glow of the man's armour and sword he realised the horrible truth.

"I know your secret, Lord Kent." Luthor said in a sing song voice as he cut Clark over the chest, slicing through armour and bone with ease. Clark fell to his knees as the pain hit him. And Luthor laughed.

"Come my Lady, we should make haste if we want to get you to safety." Diggles said, pulling a resisting Thea along as they made their way to the back of the line.

"I don't need saving, Dig, I need to be out there helping my brother. As you should be!" Thea yelled as she tore herself from Diggles grasp and notched and arrow firing it into an approaching knight's unprotected neck. As the man slumped to the floor she took a moment to admire her handy work, that's when Diggles grabbed her around the shoulders and hoisted her bodily on his back.

"You think I wouldn't rather be out there with your brother? You think I feel good leaving him to fight and die alone? No, but I made him a promise to protect his sister and I expect to keep that promise." He hissed at her as he continued making his way away from the battle.

Suddenly ropes curled around his legs and he was thrown to the floor, losing his grip on Thea in the process. The girl tucked herself into a roll and had her bow out when she was standing.

"Run Thea," Diggles yelled as he untangled his legs from the ropes, grabbed his axe and faced the approaching Solomon Grundy. The large man chuckled.

"There's no where to run for the girly. King Luthor sends his warmest regards."

That was when Thea realized they were surrounded. She notched an arrow and tried to aim for Grundy's face but the large man caught the arrow before it hit him and snapped it with a growl.

"I'm going to enjoy breaking you girly." He snarled.

Diggles gave a yell and swung his axe at Grundy who raised his huge two handed blade to catch it. Diggles was unperturbed and kept swinging at his adversary who suddenly was solely focused on making the dark-skinned man lose his head.

Thea fired another arrow this time into one of the knights who had her surrounded, she hit him just below the arm and he managed a surprised warble before he went down. Then they were on her and she was using her bow to like a club to keep them off her. She jabbed the pointed end of it into one of her attacker's throats as he died he slumped to the floor and snapped her bow. She quickly took refuge in the short blade her brother had made her train with and stabbed around her.

Somehow one of the men managed to grab hold of her sword arm, crushing it so hard between his fist that she dropped her blade. "Diggles!" she shouted, pain lacing her voice.

Diggles looked at her from he was fighting Grundy, a mistake he never should have made but worry overrode his judgement. Solomon grinned and cut his adversary across the chest with his two handed blade. There was so much force behind the blow that Diggles was thrown away from him landing at the base of a tree where he lay bleeding.

"Diggles!" Thea screamed, tears filling her eyes. As she watched Grundy walk closer she saw that he was loosening his belt. She closed her eyes as she bit her lip in fury. This was how it was going to end? She refused to believe it.

That was when she heard the blast of a horn. It came from somewhere very close and judging from Solomon's face it wasn't a horn he recognized. But she did and when she saw the colourful hues of the armour the banner bearer was wearing as the rode at Grundy she couldn't help a smile forming at her lips.

"Richard." She said and suddenly she was fighting the men who were holding her down even harder. She managed to kick one of them in his faceplate, denting it and just like that she had more leverage. She curled and bent and kicked and screamed as she tore herself loose. She rolled over to her sword and stood over Diggles. But she needn't have bothered. Dig was already getting up, scrambling to get to his axe as he joined Richard's men in fighting of Solomon Grundy.

Thea noticed that Richard and the other horse riding knights hadn't stopped when they rode down Solomon Grundy but continued in the direction of the main battle. The foot knights stayed close too her however, fighting of her attackers and making sure she and Dig were cared for before moving on.

Oliver Queen grimaced as on off the dismounted knights cut him along the arm and made to cut him down completely before Oliver took of his head with one carefully aimed stroke of his long dagger. The day is lost, he realized best to take as many as I can with me and hope my sister will forgive me.

As he made to cut down another knight he felt something behind him. And when he heard the blare of the horn he nearly smiled. As the horsemen rode past him he caught a glimpse of garishly coloured armour. Moments later a knight stopped near him and handed him a bow wordlessly. Oliver couldn't stop a small grin from forming on his face as he grabbed another arrow and jumped back into the fray.

Luthor stood over his enemy and smiled. Kent was caked in dirt and blood and was wheezing behind his visor. His men were quickly losing morale and wavering. Today I take Metropolis, he thought, tomorrow I start building a force to snatch Gotham from that coward Wayne. It had cost him a lot of men but he had brought down the great and indestructible Lord Kent. He bent down until he was face to face with the man's visor.

"I want you to know this as you die, Kent. It was a mere human that brought you to your knees." He grinned and raised his blade. Somewhere in the distance he could hear the sound of a horn. And he realized belatedly that it was not one of his. He felt a hand on his shoulder and whirled around. It was one of his honour guard the man's face a deathly pallor.

"My king, the young lord Grayson has joined the battle. We...the men are routing sire." Luthor felt his blood run cold. Not now, not when he was so close to victory. He heard choked laughter behind him, it was Kent struggling to crawl upright.

"We have won the day Luthor!" He shouted, voice exuberant as he gave a wild swing with his war-hammer. He hit Luthor's blade and it shattered, Luthor could only gape as his men struggled to drag him away from the battle. "You hear that Luthor!" Kent managed to shout as Lex was dragged away and Luthor was dimly aware of a horn blaring. "That's the sound of your victory crumbling before you. You are defeated today Lord Luthor. And now we are coming for you!"

And Luthor screamed in impotent fury as his men dragged him away from the fighting.

a/n: This chapter might not read that cleanly as it hasn't been beta'd yet. I hope you like it anyway :). If you have any tips as to how to improve my writing please share them with me. I also want to take this moment to thank all of you who added this story to your alert and favorits list. Next chapter we will finally get to see Raven :D


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I still don't own anything but I hope I do Raven justice.**

Raven looked out of the window, face a careful mask of indifference as she watched the church at the outskirts of town burn. Burn because of a command made by her father. Burn because people shouldn't believe in fairy tales. Father has made it a point to burn the churches of every town they capture and all Raven can do is watch in silence.

However, this church, these people weren't letting her father waltz over them quietly. A bucket chain had formed, carrying water from the nearby creek to the blazing inferno that was the church. And her father was watching.

He was standing under the cover of a tree, his large frame mostly covered in shadow as he looked at the bucket chain. His face was unreadable but, unlike Raven, his eyes weren't. They were like smoldering coals set into his face as he glared a burning hole into the people at the front of the bucket chain.

But he did nothing, at least not until the first bucket of water reached the church. She supposed it was her father's way of being just, giving the people a chance to stop their foolish resistance of their own accord was better then no chance at all. Her hand curled into a fist where it was resting on the wall when her father moved, the moment she dreaded had come to pass. Still her face betrayed no emotion.

Her father moved like a bull, trampling over anything that was in his way without thought. He always told her that there was no need for stealth or care when everything was yours by right. She suspected that if she could feel anything, she would feel hate towards her father for what he was. She looked down at her fist and was surprised to find her nails had drawn blood from her palms. Her eyes widened slightly and she unfurled her fist.

Down below, her father had reached the front of the bucket chain. An older nun, bucket in hand, glared at him and said something that she was unable to make out from this distance and her father froze. He was staring at the nun who, realizing who she was talking to bowed her head and murmered something Raven took to be an apology. She closed her eyes, apologies wouldn't help.

Her father curled his hand around his sword and with a flourish, unsheathed it and took of the nun's head in one movement. Before her body had even slumped through the ground her father had turned to the crowd and started moving through it with purpose and the crowd parted before him. He moved towards the back of the line where some farm boy was holding another bucket of water. Her father spoke two words to him and he dropped the bucket, bowing deeply and moving as far away from him as he could.

As her father sheathed his blade Raven turned away from the window. She didn't feel like watching the church burn and somehow she'd been disappointed with how easily the people had given up. She looked around her room for something to take her mind of her father and his ever increasing lust for power and her eyes fell upon the painting of her mother. One of the servants must have moved it into her room earlier. She kneeled in front of it, tracing the line of her mother's visage with a single, pale finger. She'd always loved that painting, as much as she was able to anyway and found a strange sort of comfort in its presence in her room.

She heard the servants rummaging through the castle, cleaning up the outward signs of the gruesome battle her father had waged within its halls. Outside the bodies of the baron and his wife were still on display, their broken forms a warning to all who would oppose the will of Trigon the Terrible. It was useless anyway, sooner or later all armies bent the knee before him.

Raven opened the door to her room and moved out into the large hallway. She wondered idly how long they would be staying here before moving on to the next conquest. She wondered what the purpose of it all was, as she had done many times before. Her father used to be content simply ruling the small region of Azerath in the upper reaches of the continent. But after her mother's death he had changed, becoming more and more obsessed with uniting all the regions of the continent under his rule.

Raven moved into the large dining hall, finding it free of the blood that her father had spilled there. She moved over to one of the benches that lined the room and sat down upon it keeping her head bowed so the servants wouldn't feel compelled to talk to her.

They did that a lot, talk to her that is. It seemed that after her mother's death everyone had expected Raven to become her and no matter how closed off she acted and how emotionless her answers were people weren't deterred in pursuing her.

The great doors to the dining hall opened and her father strode in. Raven tried to make herself invisible where she sat, using her years of practice in avoiding her father to her advantage. He didn't seem to notice her as he strode to the dias upon which the erstwhile baron's comfortable chair sat. This must have been the room where the man had held court. Trigon walked over to the throne and sat down, his face clear of emotion as he looked around the room still somehow failing to see Raven where she sat, slightly hidden from view by an overturned table.

"Malchior!" He called out, though his voice didn't really rise in volume. From one of the side doors her father's court magician showed up. And even though from the way he had entered there was no way for him to have seen her, Raven still felt his eyes upon her boring into hers from where he was standing in the door opening.

"I am here my lord Trigon," the wizard called at last, "is there anything I can do for you?"

Her father leant forward, resting his elbows on his knees and steepling his hands in front of his face. He tapped his fingers together, a clear sign that he was agitated and it was a long, tense moment before her father spoke again.

"We are not moving fast enough Malchior." Trigon spoke.

The wizard merely shrugged his shoulders. "The men need rest sire, it cannot be helped."

Trigon's right hand curled into a fist. "Your master promised me..." he started but the magician cut in.

"Has he not delivered? You rule nearly all of the upper continent and you have yet to be beaten in battle.

Trigon snorted. "I was hoping I would be ruling all of the continent by now. My daughter deserves some peace before..."

"But that was not the deal," the wizard cut in again and Raven was surprised at his insolence, as long as she had known the man he had been a true supplicant to her father. Now however he seemed to regard him as an equal at best. "The deal was for you to eventually rule the whole continent, not your daughter."

"But I paid for it with my soul...surely, surely you're not saying that after I die my daughter will lose her grip on the regions I captured for her?"

"No, no," Malchior said, "what I am saying is that although she might be the one on the throne she will not be the one who rules."

Her father glared at him. "Then who will?"

The wizard looked surprised. "Why, I will of course. She will become my bride and through her I will rule the continent."

As her father's face contorted in fury Raven blanched, she didn't realize her father had agreed to marry her to Malchior.

"That was never part of the deal," her father hissed, "I will not marry my daughter to someone that does not hold her love."

"It was never part of your deal," Malchior retorted, "it was part of mine." When Trigon's eyes widened he chuckled. "What...you think you're the only one who made a deal with the devil?"

Raven let out a gasp of surprise and then slapped her own forehead, they were certain to know she was there now.

"Raven?" It was her father's voice and he sounded furious. But Raven would face her fate like her mother would, back straight and eyes defiant. She stepped out from behind the over turned table.

"Raven," her father sighed, "it would be too much to ask for you to have just walked in wouldn't it?"

Those had been the words spoken by her father a mere two weeks ago. Now she was sitting on her horse which was standing on the lip of a hill as she looked down over a battlefield. For a long time it had seemed as if the man in the green armour was going to win but when the man bearing the banner with the Robin on it had appeared the tides had turned. It seemed as if, the banners of all the great houses went around in her head, Kent had won the day. That meant it was him she would have to ask to do the impossible.

She was going to ask him to fight and defeat her father.

A/N: Why has Raven shown up south of her father's territories? Why hasn't she been stopped by Malchior? Will I ever answer any of these questions?

Tune in next time for more :D. I also want to take this moment to thank Grinning Cheshire and Nini Hearts for reviewing and all those who added this story to their favorites :)


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